Tough Love
by Onyx17
Summary: They’ve seen it, done it, lived through it. Now those hardened old fogies are showing them turbo revving young punks the true meaning of ‘forever’ in love….and it ain’t always pretty. Ironhide/Chromia 28 Drabble Series.
1. Caring

**Prompt: **Caring

Transformers © Hasbro

* * *

The roar of jet turbines were all to be heard from the otherwise morosely silent and bitterly retreating Decepticons. Billows of smoke chugged and coughed from their damaged engines, leaving long trails of dirty grey marring the immaculate white clouds. The Autobots on the other hand were wholly raucous, if not yelling obscenities and insults with all the reach their vocals could grant, letting the the barrel of their guns speak for them.

It wasn't until the final Decepticon pedes disappeared beyond Earth's stratosphere that Ironhide grudgingly lowered his still smoking canon. Some may have deemed it as overkill (pun only partially intended) but the old mech couldn't see anything really wrong with taking a few shots for good measure at the swarm's stragglers; particularly when he was breaking out a newly crafted and gleaming long-range plasma canon.

The weapons specialist harrumphed, slowly coming back into awareness of the post-battle happenings. Soldiers were feverishly sweeping the expanse of the battlefield, searching for any of their missing comrades. Several already had, now making a bee-line with their quarry back to the medical team. Ironhide grimaced at the number of prone and smoking figures lined up for treatment.

With a rustic growl he trudged over to the focal point of action. He knew his presence was neither required nor longed-for by the medics, so settled for reporting straight to Prime.

He found the colossal 'Bot on the outer rings of the throng in the midst of conversing with Prowl. By the sound of their tones it seemed to be a fairly regulation discussion; nothing sounding too critical or serious. Ironhide figured it safe to interrupt and ask for consent to rally all undamaged 'Bots back to base and out of the way.

He lumbered up to the two with a casual civility easily accessed through millennia of working with them both.

"'Scuse me fellas" he cut into the tactician's sentence mid-stream. Prime's helm quirked to the side while Prowl pivoted half-way round. Ironhide had been expecting perhaps a soft reprimanding from Optimus on his hasty actions in battle, and definitely one of Prowl's characteristic aloof visages. What he had not anticipated, and this left the hardened soldier more than a little troubled, were dual looks of wavering surprise mingled with concern.

"Ironhide" Prime's deep timbre sounded far too sympathetic for the old mech's liking. "Are you alright?"

The pickup's faceplates twisted into a flummoxed expression.

"Ugh .…yeah" He rubbed the back of his helm in awkward confusion. "Why wouldn't ah be?" Both officers exchanged unreadable glances before Prowl spoke up.

"Have you not been to see Ratchet?" Ironhide blinked. The slag did that have to do with anything?

"No ….why?" Now they both looked highly uncomfortable; Prime'a pedes shifted on the spot while Prowl quickly mumbled an excuse about checking up on the topography damage. Ok, now he was getting annoyed. Ironhide's engine chugged a frustrated growl. "Why should ah go t'see Ratchet, Prime?!"

The Convoy looked like he was about to answer, but paused as something beyond the red mech caught his attention. Ironhide glanced over his shoulder to see the pink and dented frame of Elita One ambling over. He internally winced when his optics fell on her patched up, but otherwise very empty shoulder socket; severed left arm currently clutched in her free hand.

"Elita, was Ratchet unable to reconnect your arm?" Prime's voice was professionally calm and even, but both present knew that undertone of worry when they heard it. Elita gave a small smile.

"The reconnection of sensory cables would take about a breem at the least, and there were more critical patients requiring immediate attention. I elected to wait until next cycle for treatment" She shrugged her shoulder. "He patched up the leak though" The femme's optics then fell on Ironhide and she frowned slightly.

"Did you not check up on Chromia yet, Ironhide?" she asked. Ironhide faltered.

"Chromia?…What do y'mean?" He looked over to the activity still occurring by the medics' station. A recognisable powder blue frame instantly tugged at his optics.

"She's over with the medics and currently in stasis lock" Optimus sombrely informed. The red mech looked from Prime to Elita back to the medics.

"She critical?" his brogue was an octave lower when he spoke.

Elita breathed a quiet sigh, "She got badly hit several times in her legs, helm and near her spark" She paused before adding with a fond smile, "She took down a good fourteen Decepticons after the first shot hit to her helm. Only let herself fall into stasis once every 'Con in the vicinity was offline"

Ironhide let a small smirk creep across his faceplates. "Stubborn ol' gal" He chuckled dryly. "Ah'll go check on 'er" Elita gave him a heartening smile while Prime offered a supportive pat on the shoulder. The weapons specialist had to quench the urge to roll his optics and nodded politely.

_Are all couple's _that_ sentimental or is it jus' them?_

He plodded through the 'Bots spread out over the area and felt strongly dismayed at the sheer volume of utter corniness and emotional exchange occurring between them. The old mech reigned in the urge to bark out some of his favourite drill sergeant lines to a particularly soppy Hound and Mirage.

_For the love of Primus, me an' Chromia were never that bad, were we?!_

Speak of the femme. Ironhide dithered momentarily before covering the last bit of distance between him at the prone blue frame. He let his optics trail over the damage: her wounds had been patched up, though still randomly spat current from some exposed wires. His gaze then fell on the charred and partially melted armour of her middle torso; worryingly close to where her spark chamber rested.

"She's stable, but critical" He looked to see Ratchet standing next to him, frowning deeply and arms crossed. "I swear, she's worse than you and the twins put together" he griped. Ironhide smirked.

"Yup, yer in fer quite a bit o' work from now on Ratch'" The medic levelled a glare in his direction, then hummed contemplatively.

"One would think you'd be a little more concerned, what with your bondmate berth ridden and all that" he dryly intoned. Ironhide snorted.

"Trust me on this Ratch', y'could shoot 'er, dismember 'er, melt 'er, bury 'er, blow 'er up and that stubborn little glitch'd still find a way to claw outta the Pit" He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Ah guess y'could compare 'er t'those bugs on Earth that can survive just about anythin'"

"How sweet" Ratchet deadpanned. "Tell me, was your generation before or after the notion of the compliment was solidified?"

Ironhide opened his mouth to retort but what came out was a startled curse as something small and hard collided with his helm.

"I heard that, slagger" Both mechs looked down to see a now fully online Chromia glowering up at them. Ironhide optics brightened and he blinked once before scowling.

"It was a compliment" He feigned pain at where the rock had hit, rubbing his helm. "Primus, no need to git so violent" Chromia snorted.

"You compared me to an organic insect. In what universe does that constitute as a compliment"

"Insects on this planet are smart!" he protested. "They could rule th'world if they were big enough"

"So that makes likening me to a multiple-legged slimy organic just fine and dandy then?" She winced from her attempt to sit upright.

"Helm on ground" Ratchet sharply snapped. The blue femme glared petulantly up at him for a moment before deciding it wasn't worth the fight. Especially when everything violently spun with every movement she made. Chromia grudgingly settled back to the ground, crossing her arms only to hiss and sharply unfurl them when a burning pain shot through her torso.

"Would you be more fragging careful!" the medic snarled, moving to her side and making sure his patch job hadn't torn from her movements. "And I thought 'guns for processors' over there was bad" Ironhide huffed indignantly, but otherwise remained silent. He saw how Chromia's momentary vigour completely dissipated from those few simple movements alone. She now laid prone once more, optics dim and petulant scowl replaced by a tired frown.

"She gonna be alright?" he gruffly enquired. Ratchet ran a brief scan before sighing.

"I've done all I can. At this point, it's up to her." He paused before adding tetchily, "A tip: not moving might help" He then rose and turned to face Ironhide. "If it were anyone else, I wouldn't encourage you to keep the berth warm. But in Chromia's case…" He snorted a small laugh. "Well let's just say I've never been punched by anyone in stasis lock before" He rubbed his slightly dented lower jaw, tossing half-sparked scowl towards the femme. Ironhide rumbled a laugh.

"I'm pretty sure that's an inbuilt reflex with 'er" he chuckled. "Does it in recharge too. Can be pretty unnervin' sometimes"

"You do realise I'm still online" A fatigued but irked voice spoke. Ratchet sniggered before giving Ironhide a brief nod and moving onto his next patient. The pickup deeply filtered air through his intakes and knelt down next to Chromia, huffing out a sigh. She gazed dully up at him and scoffed.

"Primus, you look like a sparkling who just had their pet turbo-hound put down" she quipped, voice slightly strained. Ironhide snorted an amused laugh.

"Ah heard ya kept fightin' till all the 'Cons were down?" Chromia's optics lit up a fraction.

"Three blasts for every one they landed" She smirked, a trickle of energy resurfacing and faceplates regaining some light. Ironhide grinned broadly, radiating pride.

"That's mah femme" She chuckled, wincing slightly at the sting from the tremor. "Git some rest, even tough ol' glitches like you need ta recharge one in awhile" She rolled her optics but didn't protest.

"Same goes for you, bolt-head" she intoned, offlining her optics with a soft hum. "But I better not come online to see you hovering over me like some overemotional youngling" she yawned. "If I do, the first thing you'll get reacquainted with is my fist"

"Love ya too, dear" He leant down and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.

"Love you….big lug"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ah, nothing like some good ol' canon pairing (pun definitely intended!) every now and then eh?

The way I see it, their relationship is kind of like mountain: strong and immovable, can be a natural disaster all of its own (to those who try to scale it anyway XD) but certainly has the few odd rock falls now and then. As opposed to Elita and Optimus, who are more like a frikkin solar system o_o…Hmm, this is fun! Megatron and Starscream…..black hole. Definitely.

Annnnnyways, I've decided to take the 28 theme challenge to my favourite seasoned and cantankerous couple. As for the prompt…well, I think their version of being 'caring' would really confuse some of them younger, freshly in love couples 8D Show 'em where to stick it y'ole coots!


	2. At The Beach

**Prompt: **At the Beach

_Transformers © Hasbro_

_

* * *

"Chromia!"_

The blue femme groaned, helm dropping slightly. Why in the name of all that was holy did Flareup have to be so damn chipper right after recharge? By all standards it wasn't natural.

Not looking up from her cube Chromia growled a low, "_What_?"

Predictably, her less than welcoming tone did little to sully the young femme's zeal. Bouncing into seat opposite, the demolitions 'Bot beamed expectantly up at her.

"A bunch of the guys are going to the beach today, can I go with them? _Please_!" she grinned beseechingly, hands clasped together in a visual plea. Chromia languidly shifted her gaze from the cube to Flareup's blindingly bright faceplates.

"Who's going?" The young femme blinked once before unclasping her hands and pondering.

"Well let's see, there's Bumblebee and Smokescreen….ugh…" she hesitated before muttering something inaudible. Chromia frowned.

"What was that?"

"And the…the um…the twins" she smiled meekly.

Chromia didn't miss a beat, "No way" Then casually returned her attention back to the cube. Flareup gaped disbelievingly.

"But Chromiaaaa!" she whined, visibly deflating. "Why not?!"

"I think it should be obvious" she scoffed. "Those two are like a fragging virus, it's as if they infect those around them into becoming just as bad" She threw back the rest of her high-grade before adding, "Not to mention the other two going are either a total pushover, or not exactly high on the morale ladder themselves. There'll be no one to keep a tight grip on the twins' leashes" Flareup looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Well….if we brought someone who could keep an optic on them, could I go then?" she asked, tone seeping with desperate hope. "Please Chromia! I want to see the ocean so badly!"

"We crashed into the ocean when we landed here" she deadpanned.

"But I didn't know what it was then! Please, I just want to see it up close! Hound said there might even be a sunset! Please please please please please please please please pl-"

"OK FINE!" Chromia relented, knowing that when Flareup was dead set on something, her 'please' tirade could go on for a good joor at the least, and Chromia _really_ didn't want to have to endure that. With an elate chirp the orange femme excitedly lunged at and hugged Chromia. The weapons expert huffed an annoyed sigh, gently but firmly pushing the femme back after a moment.

Flareup bounced to her feet with a wide grin.

"Awesome, I'll go ask Jazz now-"

"Woah, woah, woah" Flareup pivoted back to face the blue femme's disapproving expression. "_Jazz_? You're brining _Jazz_ as supervision?"

Blue optics blinked twice.

"Umm, yes?" Chromia snorted.

"Ugh, I don't think so" She pushed herself up from her chair and made a bee-line for the rec-room's exit, Flareup scuttling after her.

"Why not?" The blue femme sighed.

"Look, I've got nothing against Jazz. Nice guy, great spy, great Autobot, a lot of fun" she listed off, optics set on the hallway ahead. Flareup frowned in confusion.

"So…what's the problem?"

"The _fun_ part" Chromia stated, halting in her steps to stare down at the femme. "He's great for keeping control of his Special Ops agents, organising missions and all that slag. But when off duty, he becomes a key player for every misdeed in this place"

Flareup stared disappointedly up at her before sighing.

"Ok, well then how about Ratchet?"

"Tch, good look getting him to go. I guarantee you won't make it past the med-bay doors"

"Prowl?"

"Away with Prime and Elita. Some diplomatic slag" she disinterestedly stated.

"Ugh….Red Alert?" Chromia rose an optic ridge.

"Would you really do it to the poor guy?" Flareup looked despairingly up at her.

"Wheeljack?"

"Dear Primus, the two of you together in the same location. You'd better be certain there's no life in the area for when you two nuke it"

Flareup revved her engine in frustration, frowning petulantly.

"Well then who?!"

* * *

"So….this is the beach?"

"Yup" the gruff response came from next to her.

"Huh….And that blue thing is the sea?"

"Yup"

"Huh" she said again. "It's not much" Ironhide snorted.

"Pretty big though. Covers most of this planet" Chromia made a noncommittal sound, optics flicking from the fairly basic view to the beach's other occupants and frowned.

"Flareup put the…ugh, what do you call that thing?" she asked Ironhide.

"Dolphin" he informed.

"Right, put that dolphin back in the water…._Now_!" she barked, then added to Ironhide, "Thanks for coming, I'd hate to have to watch all these brats by myself"

"No problem. Ah wanted t'spend mah day off bein' a chaperone anyways" Ironhide dully replied. Chromia snorted in amusement before scowling.

"The frag is all this stuff?" she growled, hand sinking into the soft particles covering the beach and seeping deep into her transformation seams.

"Sand" Ironhide grimaced as he felt his own finger-joints suffering a similar fate…not to mention other areas. "Frag, this is why ah told ya it was a bad idea for us t'sit here" Chromia frowned at him.

"Show me a spot here that isn't covered with this stuff" she snapped back, standing and shaking her legs feverishly to remove the sand.

"Well if you had listened to mah suggestion that we go t'the beach further down from here, there would be" he huffed up at her.

"You never mentioned that"

"Oho, yes ah did!"

"_Oho_, no you didn't! You're obviously losing your memory banks" Ironhide snorted.

"Yeah, _ah'm_ the one losin' their memory banks. Who, precisely, was it that couldn't find their own arm canon last cycle?" he derisively pointed out. Chromia crossly dumped herself back onto the sand next to him.

"That was one time and I was fragging tired! _You_ were the one who lost Blurr when he was one vorn old!"

"Yer never gonna let that go are ya? That was mega-cycles ago and we found 'im alright!"

"Tch'yeah! After you had to almost literally turn all of Michigan upside down"

"Ah was worried!"

"Well so was I!"

They both sat glowering at one another for several moments before slowly turning back to face the ebbing tide in front of them. Ironhide quirked a small grin.

"Remember how we found 'im?" Chromia breathed a chuckle.

"Yeah" She let a small nostalgic smile tilt her lips, "Little guy had gotten into one of the racing tracks. Must've gotten confused on how to get back out and just kept running the laps over and over again"

Ironhide chortled, "By th'time we found 'im the little fella was practically offline to the world he was so tuckered out. Don't think ah ever saw him that still before…or ever will for that matter"

"Yeah" Chromia murmured, optics trained on the far dimming light. She contemplated it for a moment before nodding once towards it and asking. "That the sunset?"

Ironhide looked up from his cannon to see where she was indicating.

"Yup"

"Huh…." Chromia let her optics trail over the scene: splattered shades of red and orange with streaks of light jutting out from over the sea and cutting through the sky. After watching the horizon for a moment she looked up and saw the orange overhead gradually recede towards the horizon and a steady, tranquil blue slowly pour over the sky, a coagulation of purples and fuchsias mingling into wisps of cloud.

"What'cha think?" She heard Ironhide ask.

Her head fell to the side, expression tired.

"I think that's our cue to head back" she plainly replied, standing upright and dusting her legs off. "Let's round 'em up" Ironhide gave a happy grunt.

"Good. Ah'm not sure ah can stand this sand for much longer" He stood, cringing at the feel of tiny particles rattling around under his armour. "Primus know's mah joint's are crotchety enough as is" He awkwardly arched his back, wincing at the rigid pull and stinging sensation of energon lines.

He momentarily toyed with the idea of requesting a massage once they got back to base….then recalled the last rubdown he'd gotten from Chromia. The pickup shuddered. It would be putting it mildly to say that her massages were more like being tortured for information by particularly sadistic Decepticons.

"Ugh….Ironhide?" Chromia's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Where are they?"

The red mech froze mid-stretch, optics onlining with a snap and quickly turning to look over the breadth of sand around them. He cursed.

"Oh…..Frag"

Chromia scanned the area, blinking when her optics settled on something small and wriggling up ahead. She stalked straight over to see two stout yellow legs jutting out of the sand and frantically kicking.

Gripping and easily hauling the weight, she pulled a gagging and irate Bumblebee out.

"Bumblebee?" Ironhide appeared by her side, frowning. "What happened?" The mini-con glared with impressive intensity.

"What…happened?!" he coughed out, tiny fists clenched and optics fierce. "Those…._fraggers_ got hopped up on high-grade and buried me! That's what slagging happened!"

"THEY WHAT?!" It was wholly natural for Bumblebee to wince at such furious exclamations from the cantankerous and trigger-happy couple, but didn't lesson his own indignation any little bit.

"Which way did they go?!" Ironhide snarled, fists clenched. Oh he was going to personally make sure those spawns from the Pit didn't see the outside of the base…no, the outside of their _quarters_ for quite some time.

Bumblebee's glare was deadpan. "I don't know. I was too busy FILLING EVERY INCH OF MY INTAKES WITH SAND!"

The couple flinched.

"How did we not see them with the high-grade?" Chromia growled aloud, dropping Bumblebee back to the ground with a thud. "Or burying you?"

The yellow mech continued to glare up at them, scrambling to his feet.

"I called out for help! Several times!" he snapped, stomping past them. "You were both just too _busy_ fighting with _each other_ to hear me!" And with that the little 'Bot transformed and angrily sped off, grumbling threats and insults all the while.

Chromia and Ironhide stared after him for a moment before turning back to face each other. They sighed.

"I'll take the East"

"Ah'll take th'West. Meet back at base in four joors. If we haven't found 'em by then we'll wait 'til we see their pictures on the news"

"Think they're gonna run into Decepticons?" Ironhide snorted.

"Ah was thinking more along the lines of a high-speed chase or vandalism charges"

* * *

**Author's Note: **Mmm'yup, not much appreciation for nature when your joints ache like rigid ceiling beams on fire =S

I'm not really sure what I was trying to go for with the whole Blurr thing….Was it too weird? Well to be honest, I have no justification for it other than the image of the two attempting to chase after him in their advanced years XD Makes me smile!

Poor Bumblebee X'DD I just love seeing him all pissed off and defying his established 'cutie pie' image ;D Do it Bee! BECOME A MAN!


	3. Horny

**Prompt: **Horny

Transformers © Hasbro

* * *

Ironhide had emerged from battle sporting considerably less injuries than usual. While this may in part have had to do with the recent increase in Autobot recruits, he knew there was another very significant, very substantial reason for it.

And she was currently in deep discussion with her commander. Ironhide could easily tell by the slight crease between Chromia's optic ridges that she wasn't impressed. What it was they were discussing, he couldn't guess. All he knew was that the way she quirked her lip components up into a scowl was ridiculously appealing in that instant.

Primus. Since when did _he_ get so revved up after a battle?

_Since the femmes joined combat_, a voice in his head helpfully supplied. He gave a mental nod. Seen as the femmes were specialised to guerrilla warfare, it was a rare occurrence when they got to fight alongside their mech comrades. A special treat when _he_ could bear witness to his bondmate in battle. And she _never_ disappointed.

He watched as Elita finished whatever sermon she'd been delivering. With a less than enthusiastic salute, the blue femme pivoted round and made a trudging beeline toward, what Ironhide could only assume, the med-bay.

Without so much a second thought on the matter he made after her. Following behind for a moment, he waited till the hall was clear before he grabbed and pulled her into a nearby closet. An undignified squawk left her and her whole frame tensed to attack. Pivoting round with a snarl, her fist automatically came flying toward his faceplates.

Ironhide ducked so the swing just grazed the top of his helm. He mentally congratulated himself. Last time he'd tried something similar to this, his bondmate's reflexes had gotten him square in the nasal plates… Ratchet had had a good laugh while repairing _that_ one.

Now aware of her assailant's identity, Chromia's outright fury instantly simmered to confused irritation.

"Ironhide? What th-"

The rest of her sentence was smothered when the red mech surged back up and roughly crushed his lips to hers. A muffled noise of surprise escaped her, optics ridges rising before furrowing back down. Ironhide took the opportunity to quickly deepen the kiss, pressing her back against the closet's wall.

Chromia's optics then narrowed a fraction.

'_Oh for the love of-! You'd swear he hadn't gotten any in vorns for Primus' sake.' _

With an impatient huff she jerked her helm away, effectively breaking the kiss. Fortunately for the pickup, this gave him ample access to her neck. Chromia's engine growled in annoyance as his mouth attacked the cables there.

"For frag's sake, 'Hide. You can't wait five damn breems?"

Her mate growled in turn, though his was more assuredly one of something other than anger.

"May as well be waitin' five mega-cycles" he mouthed against her neck, biting down on a single cable and causing her to hiss in a sharp intake. "Yer own fault fer bein' so sexy in battle"

Chromia snorted in spite of the continuing attentions to her neck and rough hands beginning to glide along her hips and waist.

"Wasn't aware there was a _sexy_ way t'get shot at"

Her own hands rose and established a firm grip to Ironhide's shoulders. With a forceful shove she managed to detach the determined mech from her neck. His hands remained locked on her waist, thumbs proceeding to draw slow deliberate circles on what he knew were sensitive seams. She glared up at him.

"_This_-" she roughly pried them off, "-can wait till later. I'm tired, fragged off, and filthy. And _no_! I don't feel like washin' together, so don't get any _fun ideas_. You interrupt my wash, I rip your arm off. _Clear_?"

Ironhide couldn't keep the slightly silly grin from blossoming.

"If this is yer way of turnin' me off, ah gotta say, it _really_ ain't workin'"

Chromia's optic twitched and her mate sighed, posture slumping.

"Oh _fine_. Go get patched up" he gave his hand an idle flop to wave her off. "Just don't come crawlin' t'_me_ when _yer_ lookin' for some and _ah'm_ not in th'mood"

She gave a dry snort.

"Yeah, I'll keep that in mind"

* * *

**[Roughly two mega-cycles later]**

It had been a long and arduous patrol shift for the pickup. Ironhide had returned to base over four joors later than expected, thoroughly battered and wholly exhausted. After a quick run to the med-bay, Ironhide immediately headed for his and Chromia's quarters. Completely bypassing the energon dispenser on his way.

He then went straight for their washracks, set on eliminating all traces of soot and grime rubbing between his joints before they got in any deeper.

Chromia was sitting atop the berth when he finished, data-pad propped in one hand and energon ration in the other. There was another cube waiting for him on the berth-side table.

She grunted a wordless greeting without looking up from the screen. He returned the sentiment, dumping himself onto the berth next to her before grabbing and throwing back his own cube's contents.

"Rough patrol?" she needlessly asked.

His engine gave a bushed rumble, answering only after the glass was well and truly drained.

"More'r less" he huffed, dropping it back onto the table and letting himself crumple atop the berth. "Jus' wanna spend th'next cycle offline"

He shuffled and made himself more comfortable, helm resting back into the malleable metal of the berth's headrest.

Chromia vented an amused noise, focus still primarily set to the data-pad's contents. Another klik went by and Ironhide felt his recharge systems slowly begin to kick in; joints relaxing and berth metal growing comfortably warm beneath him.

A soft chirp cut the droning silence when Chromia shut the data-pad off and turned to face him.

"Wanna do it?"

There was little more than a metallic scrape before Ironhide was up and next to her.

"Y'have t' ask?"

* * *

**A/N**: Erm… my main influence for this consisted of _Two and a Half Man_, _Rules of Engagement _and_ King of Queens_ 8D Hope that explains it!

…God, what's wrong with me?


End file.
